In a blood spilled mud filled hole

Lies a body - but no soul.

What was once a hopeful life

Blown to bits in savage strife.

 

A parody of human form

A thing that had been loving...warm,

Face down - obscured from the curious eye

And the mind that silently wonders why.

 

Jutting past the deathly rim

Stands a foot of what remains of him

Like a lonely last salute...

A solitary mud-slimed boot.

 

As his fellows pass the hole

Each reaches out to touch that sole.

And each hand rests in mute farewell

As each man meets his personal hell.